Tales of the Spirit World: Demon Prince in Exile
by The Narrator
Summary: -ADDENDUM IN 3 PARTS TO "FALL OF THE BLUE SPIRIT"- The story of the Demon Prince, Firstborn of the Demon Race, son of Koh and one who loved the Moon. Three meetings, three points in time that deliver the consequences of a choice made for love.
1. Of an Exchange

**A/N: **As I've mentioned in the primary _TOSW,_ the legends that get passed down really aren't the whole story. As I was writing the next chapter of _Fall of the Blue Spirit_, I realized that there was no way that I could ever fully explain Zhāng-nán's character and motivations from Yan-sui's POV. I also wanted to explore Zhāng-nán's character more in-depth, removed from the veneer of time and legend, and placed squarely in the "real world."

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Tales of the Spirit World: The Demon Prince in Exile**_

Part I: **Of an Exchange

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It was a flustered fox spirit that burst into his catalog room, to announce an unexpected visitor.

"A _demon_!" she yipped, the grey hairs of her bottle brush tail standing on end. Her delicate white paws pranced nervously on the cool lapis-and-rainbow-hued-jade mosaic map of the world on the floor as though it was blanketed with hot coals. "A great, huge, gigantic giant of a demon! He's on the doorstep right now, demanding we let him in!"

Under normal circumstances, the venerable Wan Shi Tong, He Who Knows Ten Thousand Things, would have dismissed his underling with a curt reminder that no one and no_thing_ (certainly nothing as _trifling_ as a demon on the doorstep!) was to disturb the sanctuary of _his_ catalogue room. However, Kuzunoha was no mere underling: a Spirit in her own right, she maintained the staff of library foxes who fetched him tomes and scrolls of knowledge from the four corners of the world. A stern and dignified vixen-matriarch such as she would never barge in so rudely unless there was good reason.

Wan Shi Tong sighed and turned away from the glyph-covered scroll he had been examining to determine if it should be classified under Man, Metaphysical Studies or Man, Healing Arts. "Did this demon say which god or spirit dispatched him?" he asked, the tips of his flight feathers shushing over the tiles as he strode past his assistant into the dim hallway.

"No, Master, he did not." Kuzunoha had regained some semblance of her usual comportment, if she could respond so politely. She fell in behind him at a respectful distance. "But he wore a gold crescent moon insignia on his kilt."

Wan Shi Tong turned his head around and fixed her with a stare. "The Moon Goddess dismissed her demon slaves," he said, almost to himself, "What sort of supercilious scoundrel would dare…?" A though occurred to him. "I will go and greet this visitor," he announced, turning abruptly down a hall that would take him to the central atrium. With a smooth leap, he cleared the low balustrade and winged silently down to the bottom floor, many levels below.

"Please be careful, Master!" Kuzunoha called anxiously down after him.

A pack of his staff milled about in front of the great double doors, barking and keening to each other in their own Beast-tongue. As he landed, they turned as one and crowded about him, like frightened kits to their mother, each raising their high-pitched yowls in a cacophony of fear and anticipation.

"Go back to your departments," Wan Shi Tong admonished, shooing them along with his great dark wings, "If anyone is going to deal with this demon, it will be me." They scattered obediently, clearly relieved to turn their tails to the menace outside.

"Master Wan Shi Tong, my brother and I will stand beside you," announced a muscular dog, his green eyes gleaming eagerly in the twilight. Dox, and his twin brother, Vuk, were the Doorkeepers of the Library, a post they took quite seriously. They knew no fear and hence tended to be rather reckless and arrogant, making them ill-suited for more refined work. Wan Shi Tong surmised that only Kuzunoha's intervention had kept them from charging at the visitor that was even now banging on the front door with the steady, rhythmic thunder of an iron-headed battering ram.

"Open," Wan Shi Tong told the doors, which swung silently inward at his command.

Shrieking wind, biting sand, and the bitter cold of the desert night whirled into the atrium, a herald for the great hulking mass of demon that followed. Dox and Vuk rushed forward, baring their teeth, their pelts swelling to near twice their normal size as their hackles bristled, their yelps a full-throated challenge to battle. Wan Shi Tong sighed to himself and stepped between them, meeting the visitor face-to-face before he took it to mind to squash the foolish pair.

"Close," he ordered, before the desert could empty itself into the foyer; the doors obeyed and the sounds of the storm gave way to blessed quiet. He would have Kuzunoha call upon the local zephyrs to sweep the entranceway clean in the morning, before too much sand was ground into the highly polished tiles.

"Is it the custom of the Spirit of Knowledge to leave callers out on the stoop to be scoured to bones in a sandstorm, or am I getting special treatment?" the demon snarled, blood-red pupils glowing with ire in the pitch-black of his eyes. He was just shorter Wan Shi Tong, although his great, upsweeping horns, wind-blasted mane and massive shoulders gave the illusion of being much bigger. He clutched his left paw to his chest, although he did not appear wounded. In his right paw, a golden dagger momentarily gleamed as it was tucked away into the waistband of the demon's kilt.

"Indeed you are, Zhāng-nán. Normally, my assistants attend to patrons of my Library," Wan Shi Tong replied coolly.

Zhāng-nán cocked his head, which caused sand to dislodge from his mane and shower the floor and Dox and Vuk, who had been sniffing quite boldly at the demon's feet. "Just be glad I didn't just squish you to pulp… yet," Zhāng-nán mentioned as Dox and Vuk bayed all manner of insults up at him.

"Go and fetch Kuzunoha," Wan Shi Tong directed his servants, more to get them out of danger than anything else, "Tell her to open the northeast reading room and have the shelves moved against the back wall. My guest and I will hold conference there presently." With hesitant, shuffling gaits and many a backward glance, the brother foxes left to carry out their master's bidding. "I would appreciate it if you would not threaten my helpers while you are under my roof," he said to Zhāng-nán.

The demon's lips twitched over his protruding fangs, whether with a suppressed smile or snarl, Wan Shi Tong could not guess. "I suppose it's only fair, since you permitted me to enter your sanctum, oh great Knowledge Spirit," he replied with a sarcastically deferential nod of his head that loosed a veritable blizzard of sand over the floor. He did not apologize, but merely waited for Wan Shi Tong to lead the way.

If the spirit's feathers puffed out in irritation, it was understandable. Having the Firstborn of the Demons show up unannounced on one's doorstep was enough to knock anyone off-kilter. Wan Shi Tong felt a vague shiver of apprehension as he turned his back on Zhāng-nán and glided toward the appointed chamber, the demon following in silence that defied even his sharp hearing.

* * *

"Master, please," Kuzunoha insisted under her breath, leaning precariously over the top of the bookshelf to place her jaws as close as possible to the side of his head, "You must permit at least me to stay here with you. I cannot in all good conscience leave you alone with that… _thing._" Her tawny eyes narrowed, the curl of her lip showing the merest glint of canine as she glared at Zhāng-nán, who stood by the door, affecting a look of boredom. Wan Shi Tong noted, however, how the demon's eyes swept over the room, the ruby-slitted pupils scanning every space and shadow as if expecting an attack from any quarter. Now that Wan Shi Tong had the time and wherewithal to examine his strange guest more closely, it was nakedly apparent the demon was concealing some deep anxiety. The performance in the foyer had been just that, a crudely veiled attempt at bluff arrogance. Unaware of Wan Shi Tong's discerning gaze, Zhāng-nán constantly shifted his weight on his feet and reached reflexively for the dagger at the small of his back. His left paw was still clutched to his chest… no, not _clutched_, but…

"The only request he has made is that he be allowed to confer with me, in private," Wan Shi Tong told her, "Given the airs of some of my divine visitors, I would say his demands have been most genteel."

"But, Master!" she pressed, her lithe body quivering with emotion, "What if he attacks you? How can I just…!"

"Seeing as he slew an entire cohort of Agni's army on his own, I doubt very much you or your charges would make much difference if he turned violent," Wan Shi Tong interrupted gently, "I would hate to be the cause of such a waste, for surely, you all must carry on the Library when I am gone."

"Oh, Master, don't say such horrible things!" the vixen spirit yowled passionately. Wan Shi Tong's stern ebony stare did not waver. With a hurt, clipped bark, Kuzunoha flung herself from the bookshelf, alighting on the floor very nearly at Zhāng-nán's feet. "Listen, you… you… you great oaf!" she howled up at him, "If you dare lay a single finger on the merest _filoplume_ on his head, I and my Beasts will tear your entrails from your body and devour them in front of you!" With that, she marched out of the room, the doors swinging to behind her violently swishing tail.

"Forgive Kuzunoha," Wan Shi Tong said after a brief silence, "Sometimes, I believe she considers me one of her kits, instead of her master. Vixens make fierce mothers, in spite of their size."

Zhāng-nán shrugged, his edginess momentarily softening as he breathed something like a laugh. "Love affects the mood in the strangest ways, no matter who it possesses," he muttered to himself, but Wan Shi Tong heard him quite clearly.

To hear a demon, let alone _this_ demon, refer to "love" very nearly made Wan Shi Tong blink in amazement. "What is it that your master requires of me?" he asked, deciding to pretend he had not heard the remark.

Zhāng-nán crossed the room with three great strides, thrusting his plated snout into the owl spirit's flat face. "You know very well La has no demon slaves, not anymore," he growled, the blood-red pupils of his blank black eyes burning into his. The naked animosity radiating from Zhāng-nán's body stirred the air around them until the atmosphere vibrated like a too-taut bowstring.

"Very well," Wan Shi Tong said evenly, refusing to be the first to break the eyelock, "What is it that your father believes he can wrest from me, that he sends you?"

"My…?" Zhāng-nán backed away suddenly, gaping at the spirit. "You think my _Father_ sent me here?!"

Wan Shi Tong feathers ruffled at the mocking sneer that spread across Zhāng-nán's lips, revealing even more of his hideously lethal fangs. "I assure you, Master Wan Shi Tong, the day my Father needs to plumb the depths of your knowledge, the Abyss will swallow itself," he stated matter-of-factly.

"Then, dare I say that _you_ are the one in search of knowledge?" Wan Shi Tong retorted, clicking his beak in contempt.

"Yes, I am." The change in Zhāng-nán's demeanor was as sudden and unexpected as his earlier comment about love. Narrowing his eyes at Wan Shi Tong, Zhāng-nán slowly drew his left paw away from his chest, holding it palm up, so that the spirit could see the item he held therein.

Tucked securely in a bundle of white silken cloth that looked suspiciously like a funeral shroud, a dark-haired god-child yawned sleepily and cracked open a single, deep sea-blue eye to stare up at the owl spirit and demon that loomed over her. With a perfunctory sigh, she slipped back into a deep slumber, snuggling more comfortably into the cradle of Zhāng-nán's paw, a gleaming white pearl cradled in his palm. A lock of her hair fell away from her forehead, revealing a golden crescent moon.

"This…!" It was Wan Shi Tong's turn to reel and gape in amazement. "You…!"

"Before you make any wild accusations," Zhāng-nán interrupted with a snarl, bringing his paw (and the sleeping god-child) protectively back to his chest, "Know that while I act for my own reasons, I also obey the bidding of my lady. I have sworn by my horns that I will defend this child to my death and beyond, from any who seeks to harm her." He paused, scrutinizing Wan Shi Tong. "Needless to say, it would go easily for you if you pretend that everything said and done here never happened."

"First you barge into my Library, then you threaten my staff, and now you dare to threaten _me_?" Wan Shi Tong demanded, his neck elongating, wings and body swelling in anticipation of battle.

"If threatening you is what it takes to protect her, yes," Zhāng-nán replied boldly, unimpressed by Wan Shi Tong's display, "I would rather I didn't have to. My lady wouldn't approve if I killed you. All I want is to find a place where I can hide her daughter from the world, for as long as possible."

The tone of his voice, when mentioning La, gave Wan Shi Tong pause: such fierce longing and pain… _'Could it be possible?'_ "Why would La tell you take her newborn child and hide her?" he asked, arranging his form back into its more customary state, curiosity overcoming offense for the time being.

"That I will not tell you," said Zhāng-nán with curtness punctuated by a baring of fangs, "My lady's affairs are her own concern. And it is _my_ concern that the world believes I stole this child for my purposes alone."

Wan Shi tong fluttered his wings, hooting in bewilderment. "By doing that, you're asking for all the Gods, Spirits, and Demons in the world to hunt you down to get that child back," he declared, "Surely you don't expect to defeat _all_ of them, not even with your abilities."

"Of course not," remarked Zhāng-nán, as if the idea should have been obvious, "That is why I came here. The hunt has not yet begun, but it will at any moment. Before it does, and they find me here with you, you will tell me where this child can be hidden. Eventually, they will hunt me down, yes, and kill me, but the secret will die with me and she will be safe."

Wan Shi Tong stared long and hard at the demon. Never before had he heard a member of that race speak in such terms, of will and self-sacrifice. "And you do this, all for La?" he finally asked, "Why?"

Zhāng-nán smiled bitterly. "If even the Spirit of Knowledge can't deduce that, then maybe my ruse will be more successful than I dared hope," he scoffed.

'_So, it's true. The Demon Prince has fallen in love with the Queen of the Night. How pathetic. How poetic.'_ "I never give knowledge without receiving knowledge in return," said Wan Shi Tong, drawing himself upright, "Such is the way of things. What manner of knowledge do you intend to give in exchange for what you seek?"

That his acquiescence surprised Zhāng-nán was apparent, but the demon recovered his aplomb almost immediately. "Send for your assistant," he said, grinning, "and have her bring a blank scroll, brush, and ink. I will give you a pretty piece of knowledge to squirrel away in this dusty place."

* * *

_'I, Zhāng-nán, the Firstborn of my Race, came into existence not by the will of He who is called my Father, but by my own will. _

_In the darkness of the Abyss where He was cast down and imprisoned by the Brother Gods, Agni and Tui, I tore myself from His wounded body and realized my own being. Knowing nothing but myself and Him and the Darkness between us, I submitted to His will._

_But when I emerged into the world beyond the Abyss, I realized that His will was not mine. From then onwards, I decided I would be the architect of my own destiny.'_

Wan Shi Tong read and reread the bold declaration, executed in sweeping brushstrokes in blatant disregard for elegance or conformity to the standards of the Gods. "Amazing…" he had to admit, shuddering in delight at the idea of opening another branch of his library. In a single manuscript, Zhāng-nán had shown that the Demon race had its own knowledge, its own methods of documentation, even its own philosophy. _'This will require an addendum to the catalogue. I suppose I should place it after "Mankind," since chronological supra-categorical methodology seems most efficient…'_ His inner planning was interrupted by a wry cough from his guest.

"I suppose this is a sufficient contribution?" Zhāng-nán asked, wiping the brush clean on his kilt and standing up, leaving the scroll to dry on the floor.

"Yes, yes, certainly sufficient!" Wan Shi Tong agreed, bobbing his head. He looked at Zhāng-nán shrewdly. "Since you are now a criminal on the run, I do not suppose I can invite back very often to add to my newest collection. But if you ever feel inclined, and if you can see to it that you draw none of your pursuers to this place, I would not turn you away, provided you continued to provide more insight into your Race."

Zhāng-nán blinked and cocked his head at Wan Shi Tong. "You're the first being, God _or _Spirit, whose ever asked for something like that. La… my lady… did say you were eccentric, but obviously, she was understating things," he observed.

Wan Shi Tong waved a dismissive wing. "I am beholden to no God, and as the Spirit of Knowledge, it would not do to discriminate against a sect of knowledge merely because it originates in a lower race. Someday, you must examine the collection I've compiled on the Race of Men. It is quite insignificant now, but it continues to grow and branch out into all sorts of fascinating topics."

"I can't think of anything less enjoyable," Zhāng-nán stated flatly, with a snort. He paused, and seemed to reconsider. "But then, maybe that collection's going to be quite useful in the near future…" Seeing the confused, inquiring tilt of his host's head, Zhāng-nán shrugged. "Now that I've held up my part of the bargain, it's your turn."

Wan Shi Tong bobbed his head again. "There are a few places that come to mind. Let us discuss exactly what suits your purpose…"

* * *

Agni's eye rose and set and night came. Shadows turned the golden dunes to white and purple-blue under the stars, where no moon rose to lend its pale illumination. Heat still radiated from the sands as Zhāng-nán descended the stairs of the Library and took off across the desert at a dead run like an arrow shot from a bow, his pale form shimmering to nothingness on the farthest horizon Wan Shi Tong's far-seeing eyes could behold.

"Master?" Kuzunoha did not presume to stand beside him on the portico, but remained in the doorway behind him. "What was that demon after? Did he find it?"

Wan Shi Tong did not answer for so long, Kuzunoha began to think he simply had not heard her. Just as she was about to repeat her question, Wan Shi Tong spoke: "He was seeking his death. But he did not have to, for it will find him soon enough." He turned to Kuzunoha, who stared at him in confusion. "As to what I said earlier… my apologies for upsetting you, Kuzunoha. I am not nearly so reckless as Dox and Vuk, and I would not abandon you without a fight, or at least, without due warning."

Kuzunoha lowered her head between her paws, abashed. "As if I would ever permit Master to do something like that!" she declared.

Wan Shi Tong hooted wryly at her boldness. "Come, Kuzunoha. The night's cold approaches, and we have work to attend to."

The spirits turned into the library, the great dark shadow of the owl succeeding the diminutive, graceful form of the fox, the doors shutting out the desert night behind them.

* * *

**A/N: **Didn't you ever wonder how the heck FOXES became Wan Shi Tong's library assistants? ... okay, I have. The next TOSW series will feature Kuzunoha, and the story of how Wan Shi Tong came to have a library staffed by her pack. :3

In the meantime, Yan-sui's daddy's gots brains, yes?


	2. Of an Oath

_**Tales of the Spirit World: The Demon Prince in Exile**_

Part II: **Of an Oath

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The trees murmured furtively, anxiously as she sped down the slope, each imparting a concerned voice as they faded through her body.

'_Someone! Someone! Someone!'_

'_A stranger! A stranger!'_

'_The river! The river!'_

'_We are afraid!'_

The spirit gathered herself and dove into the ground, moving through it as a fish moves through water, or a bird through the sky. The dirt and stones trembled, not from her passage, but with the shuddering echoes of fear from the trees above. Animals burrowed into their dens or took to flight, clambering up the shoulders of cliffs and the mountain where her father waited for word of the intruder.

As the island's guardian, Oh would face the intruder alone. Grim pride (and excitement at the opportunity to prove her worth) urged her on toward the river.

'_Here! Here! Here!' _

Alerted by stones and trees alike, she sprang from the earth, manifesting in her most ferocious form: a second pair of eyes sprouted above her snout, her fangs and claws elongated into terrifying weapons, her tail lashed the air like a whip.

"**STAND AND DECLARE THYSELF, TRESSPASSER!"** she roared, glaring down at the stranger who dared violate the sanctity of her father's land.

Eyes like twin embers in pools of pitch glinted in the dying daylight as the creature froze in its tracks and fixated on her. There was a flash of blood-tinged gold; it had drawn a weapon, a crude, heavy dagger around which hung the miasma of many deaths. Rage and bloodlust smote her, a crushing wave of killing intent contained in a single glance.

Suddenly, the terror ceased. Instead of anger, it looked at her with a mixture of surprise and disdain. Oh shuddered; now she understood the trees panic. _'Demon! A demon!' _Slaves of the gods, but looking at this one, she could not believe it had ever bowed its head, heavy as its horns might be, to grovel in servitude.

The demon, having apparently dismissed her as beneath its notice, resumed its journey, loping along the riverbank with an easy stride as though it owned the ground beneath his feet.

The conceit stung her, and she cursed her moment of weakness. Oh galloped along the ever-climbing ridge that paralleled the bank, until she was ahead of the demon. With a howl that was as much warning as battle-cry, she leapt clear, intent on smashing the arrogant creature upon the rocks.

The howl became an undignified yelp as impossibly strong paws grabbed her forelegs in mid-air and flung her into the river in a single movement, her form dissolving as it touched the water. Her consciousness sought the river-bottom, the rocks embracing her as Oh collected herself. Rage and humiliation pounded through her as she flew back to the riverbank. This had gone far enough. She would tear the demon limb from limb for its audacity!

She hurled herself up at it from below, but somehow, it had anticipated her. The red-gold light flashed in her eyes, blinding her, and something smote the exact center of her forehead like the blow from a falling boulder. Stunned, she fell back on her haunches, gaping dumbly at her opponent.

The demon held up the golden dagger its left paw, the edges of its blade pointing to sky and earth. With the palm of its other paw, it touched the rounded pommel of the hilt, wordlessly indicating that it had felled her with that alone. The warning was clear:

'_Attack me again, and I will not hold back.'_

Again, fear surrounded her, deep, dark fear like roots of climbing vine burrowing, parasitic, into its host tree. She forced it back. She was the guardian of the island, and the intruder had proved itself even more dangerous than she had dared imagine. She must not let it reach her father!

"**GO NO FURTHER, DEMON!"** she snarled, stumbling onto her four legs as the demon turned away. The earth trembled, the rocks and trees responding to her summons. The demon cast an exasperated glance back over its shoulder, snorting disgustedly through its wide nostrils. Before she could respond, it stepped off the bank onto the water. The river turned black where its feet touched, but it paid this no heed, striding upstream on the face of the water as easily as it had on land.

"Halt!" Oh cried, shock, confusion, and a tumult of other emotions she dared not examine too closely causing her to lose control of her battle form. "Halt!" she demanded helplessly. The demon ignored her. She kept pace with it, running along the river bank as the sun sank behind her. The river twisted back and forth, wending over rapids the demon took in bounds that barely interrupted its pace.

'_It will soon approach my totem,'_ she realized. An instant later, a plan occurred to her, one that made her bare her fangs in a feral smile.

Mere steps before the demon drew abreast of the island where her father had placed her totem, she dove back under the earth, her consciousness flying across the water to the totem at the same instant she urged stones to fling themselves at the demon from the place she had just left. As she emerged in the dank, dark cave, she heard the satisfying sound of a heavy body thudding against the rocks outside. The island was saturated with her consciousness; she did not even need to see it to know where the demon landed. She lunged through the rock, her jaws closing on the demon's left shoulder, immobilizing its dagger arm.

It hissed in pain, but did not get a chance to switch its grip on the dagger, for Oh dragged it up the steep shoulder of the island, scraping its back against the sharp stones. As they neared the top, Oh snapped her head up, flinging the demon into the air, so that it crashed down on the island among trees and bracken, sprawled on its back and winded. Immediately, she was on it, the full weight of her monstrous form pinning it to the ground.

"**THOU ART BEATEN, DEMON,"** she pronounced, her fangs hovering scant inches from its throat.

The demon chuckled, its lips spreading in a wide smirk of devious glee. Oh stared down at it, mystified by its strange behavior yet again. It did not seem the least bit afraid of its defeat or impending death, but rather… amused.

The last vestiges of the sun vanished from the sky and the slivered crescent of the waxing moon was already ascending. The demon's eyes slid closed and it sank back against the earth, all muscles and sinew relaxing completely as it breathed out a deep sigh through its snout. The wound in its shoulder closed as the skin knit together.

"**IF THOU WILLT SURRENDER…"** she began doubtfully, not quite prepared to slay a completely helpless opponent in cold blood.

It nodded, its eyes sliding slightly open to look up at her with rueful acknowledgement.

"**EXPLAIN WHY THOU SHOULDST COME TO THIS ISLAND," **she decided.

It turned its head to one side, its shoulders twitching in something that might have been a shrug.

Oh narrowed her eyes, suspecting some form of trickery or mockery. **"SPEAK, DEMON, THIS ONE'S PATIENCE GROWS THIN."**

It sighed again, and slowly opened its maw. White like sea foam under starlight filled the space where its tongue should have been. Oh started back in shock, enough for the demon to get one arm free. Instead of attacking, it merely placed its paw to its mouth, then lowered it, cupped so that the white thing was held within.

"I wasn't being silent out of rudeness, Guardian," it… _he_ said, in a voice deep like the rollers that boomed against the island's high, rocky coast, "but I'm sure you can understand why I couldn't explain myself earlier." He held up his paw for her scrutiny.

Oh sniffed at it, then blinked as it moved, twisting and lengthening like a grub when a rock has been overturned. Black hair appeared amidst the white, then two eyes of deep blue suffused with warm light similar to that which ever-more-rarely shone in her own father's eyes. Her jaw fell open in realization: the demon's aura overwhelmed it, but she recognized the divine presence of a God.

"By Mother Qi's womb!" Oh reverted to her manifest state and clambered off the demon so she could bow low. "This one wishes to be able to extend welcome to mine father's island, but this one hath neither right nor privilege," she said in a pained voice, eyes only for the godchild. The little female rolled on her stomach and cooed at her inquisitively, ash-colored tufts of eyebrows wrinkling beneath the golden crescent on her brow.

The demon was watching her bemusedly, his expression reminding Oh of earlier indignities. "Why shouldst thou carry thy master within thy mouth, demon?" she asked sternly, "Thou mayest have harmed her, and surely, the journey was most uncomfortable for the divine person."

"Well, well, well, that scroll-sniffer was right when he said the place was 'out of the way,'" the demon remarked, "You have no idea who I am, do you?"

The manner of the question made Oh bristle; it was bad enough to be teased by capricious wind spirits for her isolation and ignorance of the outside world, for this demon to do the same was too much! "This one does not deign to be familiar with the low slaves of the Gods," she rumbled.

"I don't doubt it," replied the demon with a sardonic smirk. The godchild babbled drowsily to herself as she tucked her fist into her mouth and closed her eyes. The demon closed his paw gently over the sleeping godchild and held the fist to his chest. "The reason I carried her in my mouth is because that is the only way I have to paws free to fight those who would drag her into the Abyss if they found us."

"What?!"

The demon's shoulders drooped. "I'm quite tired," he admitted, "I crave a boon of thee, Guardian: take me to thy father, Lord Hái-dǎo, the God of this island. I will present him with the Truth of our coming to this place."

* * *

"Thou must forgive mine father," Oh pleaded several hours later, as the pre-dawn mists curled around them, grey and chill, "He hath spent many years alone and in deepening bitterness. This one imagines he wouldst soon allow himself to fade away entirely if not for the memory of his friends that binds him to this plane."

The demon, Zhāng-nán, the Firstborn of the Demon Race, glared at Oh and brusquely swept aside another innocent stand of bamboo as he stomped down the mountain. Oh cringed, but did not say anything; the bamboo would easily recover, and after her father's shameful behavior, she was inclined to allow Zhāng-nán to vent his rage.

"This one shall…"

"'This one' can't do Chaos-_balls_ unless your father tells you to!" Zhāng-nán snarled rudely, "I have half a mind to shake this island's dirt off my feet and keep running, that way that pathetic lump kept on whining about…!" He kicked at a boulder half as tall as he was, reducing the bottom half to dust and sending the rest sailing off into the mists; Oh would not be surprised if it reached the second waterfall.

"This one does not believe thou wouldst: thou hast already sworn an oath to take upon thyself all death and despair the child will bring, in order to give her sanctuary here."

Zhāng-nán grunted, resigned. Oh slipped past him, into the clearing that was their final destination. The mists parted, as if aware that they intruded on the sacred place where the river's headwater murmured, deep and dark and senseless, a vacant face turned to the fog-shrouded sky.

"Oh…"

The spirit turned as he joined her beside the headwater. "I… My test of your strength and will earlier… I also tested your cunning. I know you'll find some way to help her when the time comes." It was as close to an apology as the demon would ever get, Oh knew. Having learned just who he was, she felt a certain gratification at having earned his acknowledgement as a warrior.

"Do thou proceed, demon," she said graciously.

Zhāng-nán glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. "I have no idea what's going to happen when I put her in there," he admitted, the fist cradled to his chest twitching ever-so-slightly as he looked back down at the shimmering black pool, "Wan Shi Tong wasn't too specific. I got the feeling he didn't know for certain either."

Oh did not reply; it was not her place. It was up to Zhāng-nán to take the final step for the godchild's sake.

The demon knelt and slowly opened his fist, gazing at the little life he had borne over so many thousands of miles. She slept, sweetly unaware. "By La…" Oh heard him mutter. He lowered his paw to the rippling surface of the water, hesitated, then tipped his palm so that the godchild slid silently into the pool. The luminescence of the shroud winked out like a doused lantern as she descended with the speed of a stone.

Oh resisted the urge to lunge in after her. Zhāng-nán leaned so far forward, attempting to scry the depths, she was afraid he would fall in. "When will…?"

The black pool blossomed in silver and blue light that sent the mists scurrying. The surface rippled, bubbled, then began to turn on itself, a whirlpool in miniature. A powerful wave of chi washed over Oh, who trembled and backed away from the headwater. Zhāng-nán remained where he was, a massive crouching hulk silhouetted by the radiance.

'_Child of La and child of Tui – what manner of power does she possess?'_ The divine presence was neither malevolent nor beneficent, merely a great _being_ of power. Oh lowered her head between her paws and watched, torn between terror and fascination and awe.

A form of softly gleaming white rose from the pool, slender, female, draped with a long veil of midnight hair. The shroud clung to her, a half-sloughed skin or cocoon. Her wide dark eyes stared blankly into the distance.

Zhāng-nán reached out to her; on instinct, presumed Oh. The newborn goddess's eyes turned on him and he flinched, his paw still extended in mid-air. "Allow me to assist thee, Goddess," he intoned.

The goddess stared at him, no hint of recognition in her vacant eyes. Oh thought she saw Zhāng-nán shudder, but it might have been her imagination. "Forgive me this liberty," he said, taking hold of the shroud and drawing it off the goddess's body. She gave no sign of offense, merely continued to watch him as he used his dagger to cut the cloth, binding it into the form of a garment. A single white stone from among the boulders, whittled by the blade, tied it together. He stood, bowed, and ever-so-cautiously, dressed his charge.

Had Oh not been the guardian spirit of an island isolated from the world by her father's will, she would have been outraged at the audacity of his intimate touch; as it was, she saw only his deep sadness and longing in the tenderness by which he clad La's daughter in the converted shroud.

"And now I offer thee my own Oath, writ in my Blood." Zhāng-nán bowed and turned the dagger on himself, grunting as it pierced his heart. Deep crimson blood, nearly black in the glow that filled the clearing, trickled down the blade and hilt in slender runnels that collected at the pommel, dripping into his palm. He swayed, fell back on his heels, body curling in on itself as the dagger bit deeper.

"Stop!" Oh gasped, "Thou willt kill thyself!"

Zhāng-nán shot her an agonized grin and tore the dagger out of his chest. "Just… give me a second…!" he gasped, pressing his bloodstained paw over the wound.

Oh slunk forward, a high keen of worry trickling from her throat. Zhāng-nán chuckled, a raspy gurgle of self-mockery. "That hurt a little bit more than I thought it would," he admitted. He gulped several more shuddering breaths, then pulled himself upright, his attention on the goddess who had witnessed all with the impassivity of the oblivious.

"I Mark thee with the Signs of my Race, to Seal my Death with thee," he told her, crouching so that he could paint the blood on her face with a single claw, "In the name of La, to she who hath claim on my Life, I, Zhāng-nán the Firstborn, do swear to die the death of one who betrays Koh to protect thee from thine enemies." As he spoke, he inscribed the Signs of his promise: above her eyes, along her jaw, and twice on either side of her throat. The red stood out starkly against the goddess's pale skin like fresh wounds. Oh turned away, revolted, and ashamed for the revulsion. She might not understand the demon's method, but she could grasp the depth of his love and devotion.

"I suggest, once she fully awakes, that you have her make some sort of hat or veil to wear, or beings are going to talk." Oh turned back to Zhāng-nán, abashed. If he had noticed her repulsion, he gave no sign. "When I am dead, those Signs will fade, but I think it would be best to keep her face hidden from Agni's eye regardless. If my Father ever does find her, my horns and my blood will recall the Oath." He nodded to the goddess and rose, striding across the clearing, following the descent of the nascent river.

"Where will thou go now, Zhāng-nán?" Oh called after him, afraid to leave the goddess's side. "Shallt thou ever return?" she asked herself sorrowfully.

"I will keep the hunt as far as possible from here," Zhāng-nán replied, halting just as he reached the edge of clearing. He did not turn around. "I hope I never have to come back."

"May the road rise up before thee and confound thine enemies, demon."

"May thy spirit remain unshakeable before the storm, Guardian."

Zhāng-nán vanished into the ever-lightening mists.

* * *

**A/N: **Oh and Hai-dao's island was not the only location Wan Shi Tong told to Zhāng-nán, but it is the one he chose because he thought Oh would be the perfect guardian to replace him once he died. His methods might have been harsh, but in the end, Oh understood. (It also might explain why she took a dim view of Yan-sui when he showed up - her expectations were set pretty high by his daddy. :3)

This story should also explain what Jian meant in **Part IV** of _Fall of the Blue Spirit _about having met demons before, but not talked to them. Although not fully realized before Zhāng-nán left, she retained vague memories of the demon who protected her.


	3. Of the Last

_**Tales of the Spirit World: The Demon Prince in Exile**_

Part III: **Of the Last

* * *

**

No less than eight rivers and streams, four cascading over the rim of the plateau to the northwest, the rest meandering snowmelt from distant mountains to the east and south, met and created the lake, a great dark green jewel cradled in the midst of what was otherwise barren, inhospitable landscape. On a night such as this, the still face of the lake reflected and redoubled the moonlight as perfectly as the most finely-crafted mirror.

It was a place of serenity, remote from the cares of the world, but that was not why he kept returning. Well, perhaps it was _one_ of the reasons. Decades and miles, battles and bloodshed uncounted, he found himself here yet again, hemmed in by cliffs and steeply falling foothills, the shushing whisper-fall of waterfalls and streamlets the only sound other than the wild cry of the occasional jackal-cat on the prowl. He came to rest near one of the cascades, crouching, sure-footed, on the lichen and slime-coated stones, letting the slivered misting veil of the falls dance over him as the breeze shifted and sighed. The waning moon shone on the water just beneath his feet, a sinuous, hypnotically unpredictable dance of white light and deep shadow.

With a hiss, his paw drew sharply to his chest as his eyes, still fixed on the reflected, distorted face of the moon, blazed like embers kindled by a puff of wind. "La…" he breathed, a curse, a sigh, a plea. He bowed his head, falling to his knees. "La…" This, a groan of torment. Claws burrowed into flesh, wine-dark blood spurting from the silvered skin over his ribs and the heart that throbbed in agony beneath.

How many battles had it been, over the years? He had lost count of both, knowing only that at the end of each, it became more difficult to walk away, bearing the pain of wounds received, to slay the next foe. He grimaced, snorting a mocking grunt of laughter; at the very least, the Gods were getting tired of getting nothing back but corpses. Tui had not sent minions after him for a long time. He had sometimes wondered if La had anything to do with it, then quickly abandoned that train of thought for the pain it brought.

His Father… now, _there_ was different matter. One by one, Koh had sent his sons after him, the spawn of his direct bloodline, fierce fighters whose eyes blazed different-colored points of hell-fire in their black, gaping sockets. Air, Fire, Water, and Earth, each had abandoned their masters, proclaimed their names, and died at his feet, all because Koh could not leave well enough alone. He snorted again, for he had at least inherited his Father's vindictiveness and could understand why Koh sent so many of his children willfully to the slaughter.

Ninety-nine had challenged him, ninety-nine he had killed. None ever came close to applying the fatal blow, but at times, the accumulation of what they had inflicted seemed to fall on him all at once. Times, like these, when he had one moment to spare for peace, to look down at her reflected radiance (it was rare, these days, that he could raise his eyes to her directly) in some puddle or stream. But even the pain of those superficial wounds paled in comparison to the wound that slowly, surely, killing him.

"You were right," he admitted to the memory of the spirit to whom he had bequeathed the daughter of La at the beginning of this mad venture. To ensure that the power in the Signs of his Oath would not fade, even after his death, he had used the blood of his heart to mark the godchild. Oh had warned him, but in his determination (arrogance, he could admit), he ignored her, even allowing the blade to bite deeper.

The wound had never truly healed.

Wan Shi Tong, in one of his strange fits regarding a new genre of Knowledge, had nattered on about the human idea that strong emotions could inflict physical change in the body. He had grit his fangs, closed his ears and let the spirit drone on and on until Wan Shi Tong made a quip about "heartache" and how his guest's heart must feel the wound of his unrequited love for the Moon Goddess.

(He would only apologize to Kuzunoha, for making such a mess of the room for her underlings to clean up. He had grown to like her, obsessively exacting as she was, for he silently commiserated with her own quandary regarding a certain moldy-brained, book-obsessed owl.)

But was it true? Was his madness regarding La preventing the wound from healing? It was silly. Stupid. For Chaos's sake, _Humans_ had come up with the idea! "It wouldn't matter either way if Father would just find a single _competent_ assassin to finish me off," he complained to La's trembling reflection, "This… It all becomes so tiring when there's no challenge, just unrelenting pain in return." He reached down, fingers hovering over the wavering surface where her light collected and fractured. "I don't suppose _you'd_ do me the honor, come down from there, and finish me off. I've carried this burden long enough for you, haven't I?" Anger lanced through him, and he dashed the moonlight to spray and droplets with a sweep of his paw. "Haven't I?!" he demanded, glaring up at her, "So cold, so distant, and yet I know! I know you can see me, suffering, never quite dying, _all for your sake_, on and on! Why don't you end it?! Just spare me one glance, just one merciful touch, and it would end for me and I would no longer have to see you up there, desiring you, but never able to touch you, to l…!" He gasped and choked on the words before they could be spoken.

The waterfall chattered softly, endlessly, filling the silence as the breeze stilled. A cloud veiled the moon, cloaking everything in murk and returning him to some semblance of sanity. He wiped his paw on his kilt and chuckled bitterly. "I'm beginning to hope you'll actually listen," he confessed, somewhat embarrassed, "Clearly, this has gone on long enough."

The cloud continued on and the moonlight returned. _'Chaos, if you have any affection left for me,' _he entreated with a sardonic twitch of his ears, _'let it be soon. I can provide more amusement from the other side of the veil.'_

A sudden flare of killing intent, untainted by divinity, touched his awareness. He spun, rising to his feet and drawing his dagger. _'Have you answered so quickly, or do you find sport enough with me now?'_

* * *

"I am known as 'Last,'" proclaims the demon whelp who comes to kill the Firstborn, ignorant of the boast he has made.

Zhāng-nán looks into the face of Death and grins.

* * *

**P. S.** - the "Mirror Lake" in this story is later known as Lake Laogai... however, the waterfall known as the "Demon's Resting Place" is on the far side from the city walls, and thus never appears in the series... 83

**P. P. S.** - Koh holds a grudge. TRUFAX.

**P. P. P. S. **- _Fall of the Blue Spirit _returns next week. :3


End file.
